Fremont rested on his back with his hands folded behind his head, patiently studying the ceiling. He could hear guards speaking to each other, but the discussion didn’t include his fate. He hadn’t been told anything, but he was fed and treated well, which was all he could ask for. Fremont had also been given an empty cell in an empty room. The privacy only gave him a sense of dread. To be separated from others couldn’t be a good sign.
“I had expected an arrest for lewd behavior, Fremont.”
Fremont recognized the voice and sat up. “Varun.” He smiled as relief swept into his being. “What brings you here, doll?”
“I had to see it myself,” Varun teased, approaching the cell. “Did they really restrain your tail?”
Fremont carefully got to his feet and turned to show how the guards had taped the appendage to his leg in three areas. “It’s uncomfortable and throws my balance off. What did they expect me to do with it, steal the keys and flee?”
“Probably.” Varun motioned for Fremont to step closer. He squatted down near the bars and reached inside with a pocketknife to cut the tape away. “I vouched for you, so don’t plan any escape with my honor on the line,” he warned halfheartedly.
Fremont smiled. “Have you been told why I’m here?”
“Murder. Such a ghastly mark, Fremont. You couldn’t have been framed with something with less shock value?”
“You say I was framed?”
Varun closed his pocketknife and put it away. “You’re not the murdering type.”
“What did they tell you about the murder? What evidence is there that I’m to blame here?”
“It looks bad for you, Fremont. They’ve linked this incident to one from Foxwood.”
Fremont backed away from the bars, studying Varun in a manner he hadn’t seen before. He would have guessed Fremont suddenly feared him. “What were you told, exactly?”
“I won’t repeat a word, Fremont. What was told to me is not mine to repeat.”
Fremont’s heart fell. He lowered to his knees and stared at the concrete floor. He had spent ten years hiding, and now the past had found him. He had never wanted Varun, or anyone, to know.
It was a long time before he could lift his gaze back to Varun’s face. “I didn’t do it,” he whispered.